We were that cliche

To love a cliche. To loathe one. There's a fine line bridging the two. There's a fine line for anything.

So as we gathered inside a musty classroom we became quite discontent.

The rays of the subtle sun collided with the fronts of seasonal shifting and we were left with = nice day outside.

Our professor Heir Doctura Anna Paulick had intentions of showing us in class films on European uprisings, while we whispered revolution of our own.

"Let's ask if we can have class outside," says one.

"Yeah! It's such a nice day," says another.

We find compromise.

Heir Doctora agrees to go outside after we watch short videos,thus saluting diplomacy.

Our eclectic congregation strolls out of the class and into the outside, with jubilant countenance and buzzing murmurs. We stroll , quite Vagabondishly, until we find a conveniently large tree, which has created a delightful patch of shade.

Heir Doctura whips up topic questions as we're divided into groups to dissect the actions and occasions of post communist Europe. My group discusses the reasons for the reunification of Germany, and the consequences thereafter.

"There were some 2000 East Germans crossing into the West everyday," said my group member, The Governor. "The only way to stop the migration was for West Germany to pour money to make the East a better place to live."

"Within 3 years they had invested some 71 billion euros, and would reach over 120 trillion by 2003," said the Shameless One.

Yep.

The rest of our colleagues began to expound on their topics as the sun beams crept through the leaved cracks of the trees. Not enough to overheat us, or even blind our sight. But just enough to remind us of the autumn warmth.

As I sat Shamelessly, half basking-half paying attention, I couldn't help to notice the cliche connotation of the moment. I remember seeing movies or programs showing the college life. The budding intellectuals sitting outside on an open day to discuss the high topics of society and elevate their minds. The multiracial and sexual group that poses for the photo to dawn the covers of brochures and pamphlets.

We were those students. We were that cliche.

It was perfect. After knowing it existed I had now lived it. This physical manifestation of hypothetical commonality that marketing is made of.

A Persian. An African. A White guy. The Latino. An Asian girl. A Romanian Doctura. A Shameless Vagabond.